But where Walter accepted Bing’s charisma, Monkey probed deeper. Monkey peeled back the layers of memory to show him moments when Bing seemed isolated even in the middle of a crowd. Walter had always been too mired in his own social anxiety to see it. But now, with Monkey’s confidence suffusing his body, Walter could see more. Hefeltmore too. And the reality of it shocked him to his toes.
Bing was aching for someone. There was a hunger in his eyes and a painful vulnerability to his stance. He seemed as if he’d been fighting chaos forever and needed a safe harbor. Or maybe he just needed to be touched more than anything else in the world.
Touch him!
Monkey’s voice echoed in his head. The words came with a boldness that Walter had never had before. His muscles tensed to do exactly as ordered, but he kept himself back. He didn’t want to obey commands from the alien creature in his brain.
He also didn’t want to miss an opportunity to be with Bing. He’d lusted after the man for years. He’d just never thought…. Bing had never given any indication…. And yet maybe that was because Walter had never seen things the way Monkey saw them.
I’ll show you. Let me take over.
No, no, no. He was not going to let some alien energy make a move on his best friend. Besides, he’d seen the results of letting Monkey take control on the set—one stuntman hospitalized, the others all banged up. Not a chance—
Then you do it. Just touch him.
Where?
Anywhere. His face. Start with his face.
Walter stepped forward. There wasn’t a lot of room in this tent, so he didn’t have to move much to feel the heat radiating off Bing’s body. Then he waited for Bing to meet his gaze.
“Walter—”
“When did you first get together with Kong?”
He watched Bing’s eyes widen and his shoulders hunch defensively, but Walter didn’t back off one iota, not in body language or in tone.
When Bing didn’t say anything, he asked instead, “When did you realize you are gay?”
Again Bing flinched, but this time he pushed back. “That’s not important.”
“The hell it isn’t. You told me—”
“Kong and I were roommates in a tiny apartment. Just roommates.” He glanced at Walter. “I’ve known him since we were children. I lived in his house. We got our first apartment together.”
“What happened?”
“New Year’s Eve he brought home mijiu. A lot of mijiu.”
“And you fucked?”
Another wince, but Bing didn’t turn away. “We did. There were many nights of… of mijiu. Then I met you.”
“And?”
Bing shrugged. “I didn’t want him anymore.”
Walter didn’t know what to say to that. He liked the idea that Bing had been thinking of him, because God knew he’d dreamed of Bing. But that didn’t change their first discussion, their first kiss, and Bing’s strong refusal to go any further. “You told me you weren’t gay. You were emphatic about it, remember?”
“There are cameras everywhere on the set,” Bing said. “In China, there is no privacy. We would have been found out.”
“So you lied to me?”
Bing shook his head. “I… I hoped.” The words came out as a low whisper. “I have dated many girls.”
“But you never bedded them, did you?”
“No.”
